Angsty & Sentence Starters of the Snarky Sort
by CRMediaGal
Summary: A series of Severus Snape-centric one-shots based on Tumblr's "Angsty/Suggestive Sentence Starter" Prompts. Each prompt is based on a quote. SSHG, SSLM. Rated T, AU, Post-Hogwarts.
1. Don't Lie To Me

**Author's Notes :** The following are a few "Angsty/Suggestive Sentence Starter" prompts I fulfilled on Tumblr a while ago. I've chosen to cross-post them here. The first prompt is the only true angsty one; the second and third are more playful.

 **Disclaimer :** _Harry Potter_ is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her sandbox and own none of her associated characters. Artwork is credited to dawninhell on DeviantArt and entitled "His Royal Snarkiness".

* * *

 _ **"Don't lie to me."**_

(Prompt chosen by **_Ash-Castle_** )

 **Pairing:** Severus Snape/Hermione Granger

* * *

"You're angry with me," she whispered. It was a statement, not a question, and pervaded with a mixture of worry and regret.

"Have I reason to be?" he hissed between clamped teeth.

Those endlessly dark pools for eyes, nearly always on guard, would soon betray him as he stared down at her beneath the canopy of the Forbidden Forest. Gone was the openness and vulnerability the witch had glimpsed in precious, past spurts between them, when stolen kisses in shadowy alcoves had kept them warm for weeks; when hands clutched each other during countless goodbyes that came too fast; when tender fingertips ghosted over balmy lips and flushed cheeks, desperate to have and to hold for as long as possible.

Life had meant something in those perilous times. Since the end of the war, little had made any sense to Severus Snape or Hermione Granger.

Hermione wanted to recoil from the cold sneer she recognised, but the pain caving in on her chest wouldn't allow for anything short of reckless abandonment to long-standing stubbornness. She wasn't sure which outcome would be worse after tonight: losing him all over again (and on account of her own misfortunate actions) or the wizard's absence bestowed on her of his own headstrong accord.

"I made a mistake," she choked, trying to keep from breaking down, even as she sensed every fraction of his being about to retreat further into the woods. "I thought you were dead."

"Yet _I_ 've never strayed."

She understood the gravity of that blunt remark. He had never stopped loving her; never considered anyone else.

His voice was as frigid as the ice that covered the forest grounds, his eyes glinting at a weakness in his stance. There remained the utter powerlessness to feel—at least, in part—at this long-awaited, desperately sought after reunion. It was not how it was intended to go, of course, and yet, there was no turning back from this moment.

Hermione couldn't prevent her voice from catching in her throat. "Had I known you had lived, I wouldn't have strayed either. I was weak. Can you not forgive me?"

Her plea didn't seem to be enough of a wager for him to consider. When Severus offered no rebuttal but continued to stare Hermione down in that harsh, resentful manner that she despised, her eyes easily succumbed to tears. "I never stopped loving you. _Never_. Not once. I... I was lonely."

"Indeed. It would take a great deal of desolation to go to bed with _him_."

"Don't be cruel!" she begged. "We were both looking for someone else in each other. It was never, ever right, and we both knew it." Hermione reached out to him but halted halfway. "Is my continuing to love you not enough?"

Severus's lips tightened under the pale moonlight. "It would be, if I still felt the same."

Hermione's watery eyes suddenly hardened, pulling an affected Severus in with their glare. "Don't lie to me. You are many things, Severus Snape, but you're _not_ a coward. Don't start now."

Severus stilled at those words. His cool eyes flickered in response, forsaking the wizard's wounded pride. Before he realised what he was doing, he had stepped forward to capture Hermione's face between his hands. She didn't startle at the abruptness of his touch but craned her neck in order to peer deeper into his eyes. They had changed; opened. A calloused thumb caught one of her tears and gently cast it aside.

"You always know how to get to me, witch," he growled, echoing an amused but sustaining reluctance to admit defeat.

"As do you, you arsehole!" she half laughed, half sobbed.

Hermione's lower lip quivered at their closeness. Overrun with emotion, she reached out her trembling hands to finally caress him, determined to feel Severus against her for as long as their homecoming might last. She had never felt more relieved than when she received his gift at last. He wrapped his arms—wiry, welcoming, and as sturdy as Hermione remembered them—around her and eased her into him as if she was weightless.

"Tell me you love me," she murmured, moaned, as her lips breathlessly brushed against his.

"I fucking love you," he answered before bending down to take her mouth. Neither would ever let go.

* * *

 **A/N (cont.) :** Thank you to those who review.


	2. Is That My Shirt?

**Disclaimer : **_Harry Potter_ is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her sandbox and own none of her associated characters.

* * *

 _ **"Is that my shirt?"**_

(Prompt chosen by **_Anon_** )

 **Pairing:** Severus Snape/Lucius Malfoy

* * *

Severus stared transfixed at the dancing flames in the fireplace until the flickering, bright lights began to pain his eyes. He blinked and peered down into the porcelain cup he cradled, suddenly aware that his untapped cup of Earl Grey had long gone cold.

With a disgruntled frown, he extracted his wand and re-warmed it. The steam that rose from the cup and penetrated his cool skin pleased him greatly, and he indulged in a long, appreciative sip as his mind slipped back into its aimless wander of matters not normally pertained to his person.

It would take getting used to this new 'arrangement', if one could call it that. As frequent a guest as Severus Snape had become to Malfoy Manor over the years, it still wasn't quite _home_. His lover was patient and insistent that, with time, it would be.

Making tea in the mornings for more than just himself, too, was a fresh experience, as was the sound of approaching footsteps from behind. Severus whirled around, startled out of his quiet contemplations, as his fellow company entered the dark but elegantly-arranged sitting room.

Stirred on by the enticing sight before him, Severus lifted a single eyebrow. Lucius Malfoy, uncharacteristically dishevelled-looking by his messy, bed-headed locks, stood idly in the doorway. At catching Severus's eye, he lazily stretched his arms above his head, donning only one item of clothing: a crisp, white dress shirt.

Always apt for making an entrance, the Malfoy patriarch's short bit of teasing revealed his well-endowed manhood. Severus growled possessively, lowly, his response a shivering whisper in the dark. His lover looked like a man who had been shagged to Utopia and back, a visual which privately satisfied his onlooker. Then Lucius lowered his arms, his- _Severus's_ -shirt appropriately falling down to cover what the wizard coveted. He smirked knowingly.

"Is that _my_ shirt?" Severus questioned. The underlying teasing in his voice didn't go unmarked.

Lucius's twinkling, grey eyes caught the whimsy of the flames at Severus's back. "Mine now," he baited in return. He stepped towards a hovering tea tray and helped himself to a cuppa which Severus had thoughtfully prepared for him.

* * *

 **Author's Notes :** Thank you to those who review.


	3. Pretty Good At Providing Distractions

**Author's Notes : **I promise that this is the last one...

 **Disclaimer : **_Harry Potter_ is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in her sandbox and own none of her associated characters.

* * *

 ** _"I'm pretty good at providing distractions."_  
**

(Prompt chosen by **_Slytheringsnape_** )

 **Pairing:** Severus Snape/Hermione Granger

* * *

Hermione had spent the better part of an otherwise free Sunday prepping for her upcoming meeting with the Board of Governors. She detested their bi-annual get-togethers, sitting at long tables with a group of grumpy, set-in-their-ways, old sods and their repeated unwillingness to take her proposals for improving the school that she loved under consideration. Quite often, Hermione Granger-Snape went through with her own ideas anyhow, and her Potions professor husband was no less of an instigativing ally in the witch's daring schemes, for which she was thankful.

As Headmistress of Hogwarts for more than twenty years, and with no plans to step down anytime soon, Hermione had had her fair share of testy quarrels with the witches and wizards on the Board. She suspected that this meeting would go no differently than the last several sourly encounters and, though she wasn't at all nervous, she had realised early on in her dealings with their slow-to-act manner of getting things accomplished usually involved a strict routine of premeditation and meticulous planning ahead on her part.

If only she could concentrate and get what needed to be done out of the way so as to enjoy what was left of her weekend! Then again, despite her stubborn attempts to maintain her focus on her work, she had enjoyed much of her day so far.

Her husband, Severus, had been proving quite the distraction since she had sat down at her desk in the Head office that late morning, with the intention of preening her plan of attack. So far, she hadn't completed much on her end but her energetic husband, meanwhile, had been quite the busy body.

First, there was the man's frequent comings and goings, in which he entered when Hermione was particularly deep in thought about her proposals, griping about uncovering misbehaving students in the courtyard or an (unnatural) potions blunder that had resulted in a massive cleanup in the Slytherin common room. Then there were his regular bits of nagging for her to 'eat lunch', 'take some tea', 'have a biscuit', or go for a 'quick stroll' around the castle (which lasted an hour and a half, no less) to 'get her blood flowing', whatever the ruddy hell _that_ meant.

At various times, he joined her in her office, with the assurance that he would read the latest Daily Prophet, magazine, or a recent book purchase in silence. That never lasted more than a half hour at most, for there was inevitably something to snarl about or comment on that got them both fired up, providing Hermione little actual peace.

Oddly enough, the longer the interruptions carried on, the less Hermione minded her wizard's continuous meddling. He wanted to be near her, to watch over her, and, even if the clever witch wasn't supposed to know any of the former spy's intentions, she understood them wholeheartedly and considered them rather endearing.

It was half past four o'clock in the afternoon when Hermione glanced up from her stack of writings for the umpteenth time to discover Severus standing across the room and staring at her. For how long he had been there she knew not. He had left her twenty minutes prior to see to a mandrake concern of Professor Sprout's, but she hadn't heard him return. He must have Flooed in, perhaps from their bedroom judging by his attire; or the complete lack thereof.

His presence startled Hermione enough that she dropped her feathered quill and splattered ink everywhere; but it wasn't the added company alone that had left the witch bereft and gaping. Severus was entirely stark naked, standing in front of the fireplace with his arms casually crossed over his chest. There was unmistakeable lust in his eyes, as well as an enticing smirk etched across his lips, which stirred Hermione to speak, albeit barely.

"Merlin's balls...!" she gasped.

"That would be the idea," he deadpanned before lowering his arms. "You're looking a little tense, my love. Care to come join me in our room?"

Hermione, stumped and blushing to the roots of her hair, stammered to speak. "Well, my... I..."

Severus nodded to her ink-infested papers. "I'm sure those can wait, don't you?"

Hermione's shock morphed into a knowing glare. "You're a scoundrel, Severus Snape."

His dark eyes shimmered, amused. "Why don't you come here and tell me something I _don't_ know?"

Without any need for further goading, Hermione instantly rose from her chair and crossed the room in a few short strides. "Oh, I could tell you a great deal of what I've thought of today...!" She poked his lightly furred chest, but her finger lingered on his cool, alabaster skin.

Severus's smirk widened, causing Hermione's knees to wobble. She was finding it trying not to jump the man's bones, and the infuriating git knew it all; he knew _everything_ about her and what turned her on far too well.

"I look forward to it," he teased in a quiet growl. Then he leaned in to heatedly capture her lips.

When their passionate snog ended, Hermione felt his crafty hands skim over her shoulders and slide her robes off. They flopped to the ground with ease, settling around her ankles. He eased her close, his breaths hot and heavy on her cheeks. She wasn't aware that she was matching his arousal breath for breath.

"Oh, you _are_ a scoundrel, Severus Snape," she half moaned.

Charmed, the proud wizard bore his teeth. "I'm pretty good at providing distractions, I'd wager."

"Don't go betting on it!" Hermione huffed, and the terror that swept across her face afterwards conveyed her regret at the suggestion she had just provoked.

Severus saw his wife's motion with the lifting of a single eyebrow. "No?" he hissed as he suddenly squeezed her buttocks and pulled her against his hardened cock.

Hermione stopped herself from yelping but her legs easily buckled, sending her into Severus's arms. She giggled against his mouth.

"We shall see, Headmistress."

Hermione shuddered, tugged his face down to meet hers, and claimed defeat.

* * *

 **A/N (cont.) :** Thank you to those who review.


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